


Eucharistia Recepta Genibus Ponente

by andiemerizein



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Brunch, Established Relationship, Gratuitous Easter Smut, M/M, Public Blow Jobs, also a pretty sacrilegious title oops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 23:23:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10650216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andiemerizein/pseuds/andiemerizein
Summary: Credence celebrates Easter in a new way with Mr. Graves. It involves brunch and blowjobs.





	Eucharistia Recepta Genibus Ponente

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writingramblr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/gifts).



> writingramblr wanted brunch smut with under-the-table blowjobs. Well guess what I wrote.
> 
> Title is "Eucharist received [while] kneeling" (sorry, my background is classical, not Ecclesiastical; also I haven't opened my Allen and Greenough in over a year so it could probably be better)
> 
> I have no fucking clue what decade this is set in, but probably something more modern, considering the silly food and drink options.
> 
> Thanks [brevityis](http://archiveofourown/users/brevityis) for the beta.

Credence stood at the mirror over the bureau, wrangling a few flyaway locks of hair into their proper places and deliberating over whether he wanted to wear any jewelry. He wanted to look his best. Today was Easter, and his lover was taking him out for brunch at a posh place downtown. Easter had always been Credence’s favorite holiday, the one time of year his foster mother eased up on the sin and hellfire rhetoric and allowed some celebration. This was his first Easter since leaving that awful place, and he was glad to celebrate with Mr. Graves in a new way.

“Mr. Graves, we’re going to be late for our reservation! Quit messing with your hair, you look fine. You’re worse than I am, I swear!”

“You know you love my vanity, dear.”

“I love it when you look great, which is always. But our cab is here, and we really must go.”

The city was full of families in their Sunday best, heading home from church and out enjoying the beautiful day.

The cab pulled up to a gigantic hotel that looked unchanged since the 1920s, in art deco style with gilded details. The hotel had doormen! Credence had been living with Mr. Graves for nearly six months now, and he didn’t know if he’d ever get used to the man’s extravagant tastes. He wasn’t about to complain, though.

Once they were seated in a secluded booth, they were handed a drink menu.

“Welcome, gentlemen. Have you been to our brunch before?”

“Yes, a few times.”

“Then you know that we have a single brunch item each week; today it’s a goat cheese and asparagus frittata. We will bring that out to you shortly. Meanwhile, can I get you started with any drinks?”

“I’ll have a Bloody Mary,” Percival says,

“I think I’ll get a bellini,” adds Credence.

“I’ll get those here for you right away.”

“Thank you,” says Percival.

Credence seemed to be making some kind of modern art with the silverware when an off-balance knife caused the whole works to crash to the table, and a piece or two of the silverware ended up on the floor. Credence excused himself, ducked beneath the table, and retrieved the utensils. But instead of returning to his seat, he simply reached up, put them on the table, and stayed underneath the tablecloth. Percival made a cursory glance around the room to make sure no one had seen, and thus that Credence having excused himself was a plausible explanation. He felt hands, first on his knees, then trailing up his inner thighs before settling on his belt buckle. When he realized what Credence had in mind, the cocktail menu suddenly seemed of utmost importance.

Soft hands and a softer tongue were bringing Percival to full hardness beneath the tablecloth as he pretended to await his partner’s return. He was studying the interesting-looking dessert cocktails, wondering whether you could actually taste the alcohol in some of these. They looked like the sort of thing Credence would order.

The sensation of fluid gathering at the tip of his cock was suddenly replaced by the sensation of a small, shy lick, and Percival took a deep breath to collect himself.

“Any questions about the drinks menu, sir?” A voice jarred him from the only convenient distraction he had, and Percival let out a small gasp when he felt a mouth close fully around his cock.

“Uh, no, just looking, thanks,” he managed.

“Here’s that bellini for your friend. Your Bloody Mary is coming right out, they just need to chop some more celery.”

“Thank you, no worries.”

Credence was sucking in earnest now, just the first couple inches, but the sensation was intense enough that Percival had to school his expression into something neutral before going back to studying the ingredients of the red velvet martini very, very carefully. He was struck with the image of Credence’s lips and tongue playing with a straw and drinking in a decadent liquid confection. That could be a dangerous thought. He quickly flipped the page and began studying the whiskey list, something a little less likely to trigger thoughts featuring Credence.

Which turned out to be good timing, because he didn’t know if he could handle being completely enveloped in the warmth of his love’s mouth without coming right then and there if he were also thinking about red swollen lips, or perfect dark eyelashes, or his own hands in silky black hair. When he felt himself press against the back of his lover’s throat, it was all he could do to keep from thrusting. That wouldn’t be a good look, he reminded himself, as he tried to convince himself of his interest in tequila. Credence seemed to be doing most of the work anyhow, setting his own pace. Percival could live with that.

“Here’s your Bloody Mary, sir. Food should be here soon.”

“Thanks.”

“Can I get you anything else?”

Go away, he wanted to say, but instead he settled for a shake of the head, unsure if he’d be able to handle saying anything else without an audible loss of control.

“Well, just let me know if you need anything,” said the waiter as he retreated. At the same time, Credence swallowed around Percival’s cock, and Percival slammed shut the drinks menu in frustration, let out a sharp exhale, and spilled down his lover’s throat.

As soon as he was tucked back into his underwear and his pants and belt were once again fastened properly, Credence, looking utterly wrecked, slid quickly into his seat across from Percival, who shot him a look.

“You should be more careful, dear. You might’ve been seen, just then.”

“Well, I wasn’t, was I? I waited until he walked away.” The boy’s throat had clearly undergone some abuse.

“How do you know no one else was in line of sight?”

“Lucky guess?” ventured Credence. "And so what if someone did see?"

Come to think of it, Percival realized, they'd probably just be jealous _they_ didn't have such a delicious-looking boy giving them under-the-table blowjobs.

The waiter Percival had so grown to hate in such a short time reappeared.

“Your brunch, gentlemen.”

“This looks delicious, thank you,” said Percival with a nod.

Mercifully, the man let them be without much fuss this time.

“Happy Easter, Mr. Graves,” said Credence with a smirk.

“Happy Easter, Credence.”

 

 

 


End file.
